
A volcanic burst of American hard rock caught at the exact moment it learned how powerful it could be
When Mountain appeared on PBS’s The Show in early 1970, performing “Mississippi Queen” and “Theme for an Imaginary Western”, they were riding the surge of a breakthrough moment. “Mississippi Queen”, drawn from their debut album Climbing!, had already climbed into the US Top 40, peaking at number 21 on the Billboard Hot 100, while Climbing! itself announced Mountain as one of the heaviest and most commanding new forces in American rock. Broadcast nationally from Hershey, Pennsylvania on March 29, 1970, the performance captured Mountain at full ignition, before myth overtook reality and before time began to harden their sound into legend.
This appearance on The Show, hosted by Bob Walsh, is remarkable not just for its historical placement but for its raw immediacy. Leslie West, Felix Pappalardi, Steve Knight, and Corky Laing perform like a band still testing the limits of their own force. There is no polish here, no restraint, only a towering sense of purpose. West’s guitar tone is massive and molten, each note bending under its own weight. His voice, rough and commanding, feels inseparable from the amplifier itself, as though the emotion is traveling through copper wire before reaching the listener.
“Mississippi Queen” erupts with swagger and danger. The riff is blunt and unforgettable, driven forward by Laing’s relentless drumming and Pappalardi’s thick, melodic bass lines. Yet what makes this performance enduring is not aggression alone. There is control beneath the noise, a deep understanding of space and tension. Mountain do not rush the song. They let it breathe, letting the groove lock in before unleashing its full force. This balance between power and discipline would become a defining trait of their sound.
In contrast, “Theme for an Imaginary Western” reveals the band’s emotional depth. Written by Jack Bruce and originally recorded by West, Bruce and Laing, the song becomes something uniquely Mountain here. Pappalardi’s vocals carry a weary grandeur, tinged with melancholy and reflection. Knight’s keyboards add a cinematic sweep, lifting the song beyond hard rock into something almost pastoral. It is a reminder that Mountain were not simply loud, but thoughtful, capable of introspection without sacrificing intensity.
Seen together, these two performances define Mountain’s identity. They were a band rooted in blues and hard rock, but unafraid of drama, atmosphere, and emotional weight. The PBS setting only heightens the impact. There is a quiet irony in watching such thunderous music delivered through public television, yet that contrast makes the performance feel even more urgent, like something barely contained by the medium.
Today, Mountain on The Show 1970 stands as a vital document of a band at its creative peak. It captures the moment when brute force met musical intelligence, when volume served expression rather than ego. For listeners willing to look beyond studio recordings, this performance offers something rare: a clear view of Mountain becoming Mountain, loud, proud, and utterly undeniable.